


tell me where to find you (when i lose my way)

by Isolatedwriting



Category: The Last of Us (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, F/F, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Smut, edit i wrote more, i guess, its barely a soulmate au as much as it is an excuse to write filth, its in the theatre, its just smut with Drama, like think 2000s soul bond more than anything, other characters are around but not big, sexy sex, you guys know whats up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:47:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28077210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isolatedwriting/pseuds/Isolatedwriting
Summary: "Ellie can taste blood in her mouth. She doesn’t know who it belongs too, or why the tang of it doesn’t make her feel sick, but Abby seems to be licking it out of her, draining away the reminder of what and who they are until its gone, and Ellie doesn’t have anything to tether her down to reality anymore".Or:The soulmate au born out of the need for sexy theatre fighting. Its just smut.
Relationships: Abby & Ellie (The Last of Us), Abby/Ellie (The Last of Us)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 101





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah i know but we all wanted it so here it is please enjoy

They’re leaving. 

Ellie doesn’t know how to feel. They have found Tommy, and the plan to hopefully find a working vehicle before leaving Seattle is reasonable. It makes sense. She doesn’t want to go. 

She’s breathless by the prospect of returning to Jackson (to _Joel_ ) with nothing to show for everything she has done… it was worse than if she had never left at all. Her skin itches with discomfort, and she struggles through conversation like that restlessness isn’t there, until she can almost believe it. 

Jesse helps. He’s a calming presence, steady and reassuring, so convincing that she can almost forget that she abandoned him for the same qualities only hours ago. Could that be yesterday already?

Ellie wants to hit something. To rip her nails across her scalp and try to get out the words to explain herself, but she doesn’t have them. She can’t explain herself. She feels like the horses back in Jackson, when storms are coming in that the citizens cannot sense; she’s irritated and restless and so on edge she doesn’t know how to make that feeling known. So she says nothing. 

She spends her time in awkward stasis, waiting for something she doesn’t comprehend until its at her doorstep. Jesse is dead. Tommy is bleeding out on the floor from a gunshot to the head, and she is running faster than she has ever run before. She can hear Abby call to her companion, the one with the bow, to watch the exits. Ellie doesn’t know if Dina is awake, if she’s safe, but as she takes cover behind the door to try and regain the upper hand, her mind quiets, slipping into a familiar sense of distance as she readies herself for a fight. 

Abby comes through cautiously, but not enough to foresee Ellie’s attack. She drops her gun when the pipe comes down on her wrists, cursing, but Ellie doesn’t have space. Its no matter to her, because she has Ellie grabbed and against the wall quicker than Ellie can ready her own firearm to finish the job. Ellie thrashes and whips her knife, getting some good hits in, but its no match for Abby’s pure might. 

Ellie is thrown to the floor, already dazed and already looking for a way out, but there’s nothing there. Abby stands over her, furious and bloodthirsty as Ellie has ever seen her, and descends down until her hands are wrapped around Ellie’s neck. Ellie claws at her, and she is slammed down hard for her effort. The floor crumbles beneath them and they fall, a twisting heap of limbs in the dingy basement, fighting with everything they have left. Ellie is about to reach for her shotgun, when a bottle comes flying through the air, striking her and breaking apart when it meets her chest. 

She’s winded, and despite everything her mind is screaming for her to do, her body just doesn’t cooperate in time. She hears her before she feels the pain, running forward, and hurls an insult with whatever breath remained in her. Abby doesn’t even seem to hear it, slamming her to the wall once again, making sure that this time she would feel it. 

Ellie brain shakes with the impact. Abby has her pinned, both arms at her sides, and just for a moment, she’s close enough to lock eyes with her (to see the blind fury there) before Abby’s fist collides hard with her stomach. She folds with the pain, gasping for breath as she is thrown to the floor. Abby is above her before her eyes have focused enough to see it, her hands wrapping around her throat and squeezing. 

She leans everything she has down on Ellie’s neck, seemingly not even feeling Ellie’s nails scratching down her arms and pulling her wrists, grabbing at anything they can to try and get some leverage. Her legs kick out wildly, and Abby’s knee drives into her hipbone, holding her down. There are black spots clouding her vision, but her hands are still fighting. She grabs the length of Abby’s braid in a strike of good luck, and pulls with every ounce of strength left in her. 

Abby yelps at the pain, and drives her knee harder into Ellie in retaliation, but Ellie has thrown her balance off just enough to open up her airway. She gasps in desperate mouthfuls of oxygen, her fingers still tangled in the ropes of Abby’s hair, and does the only thing she can think of with her head still spinning. Ellie jerks on blonde strands a second time, to bring her down low, and kisses her. 

She doesn’t know why she does it; its more of a last ditch effort, to surprise more than a tactic to win. Ellie expects a quick punch to the face as soon as she leans in, but it doesn’t come. Instead, when she finally presses their lips together, they both freeze in place, as if they are both turned to stone. Ellie’s vision goes suddenly white, even behind tightly closed eyes, until whatever had them both trapped lets up its hold, and Ellie can move again, but she doesn’t pull away. 

Instead she pushes up, bracing an arm behind her so she can dive closer. Abby seems to be in a similar position, wakened by Ellie’s tongue brushing against the seam of her lips. As soon as she catches herself, her hands flex against Ellie’s sides, and she is kissing her back with equal fervour. 

Abby’s grip loosens up on her trapped arm, and Ellie takes advantage of that freedom to reach up to grab her by the root of her braid, the back of the head, to tug her down until she’s bearing her weight all over again, but its different this time. Abby’s leg slips from her stomach and down around her, until she is straddling her, grinding down against her. If it were any time other than right that second, Ellie might have been horrified at herself for keening up against it, but not now. 

Now is different. 

Her blood is racing, burning down every limb with fiery need. She doesn’t think she’s ever been this turned on in her life, and she’s grasping at straws to consider anything other than the want between her legs. Her clothes feel rough and uncomfortable against her skin, so she shrugs off her backpack, before Abby’s hands are there, helping with her shirt. 

Its rushed, frenzied, and Abby is kissing her like she has never been kissed before. Its strange, like realising you’ve been holding your gun wrong your entire life, but Ellie can’t get enough of it. Its like hunger, spread out across the entirety of her skin instead of her stomach, and as soon as her arms are free from the tangle of fabric they are around Abby’s neck again, pulling incessantly on the neck of her shirt, because Ellie needs to touch. 

Ellie can taste blood in her mouth. She doesn’t know who it belongs too, or why the tang of it doesn’t make her feel sick, but Abby seems to be licking it out of her, draining away the reminder of what and who they are until its gone, and Ellie doesn’t have anything to tether her down to reality anymore. Only the _want_ in her core, and the dull pain of Abby’s blunt nails scratching red lines down her stomach. 

She groans, tearing at Abby’s shirt until she can’t be ignored any longer. Abby pulls back away from her, breaking their kiss for the first time, to pull her own shirt over her head. Ellie thinks that maybe this is her moment to stop this, to clear her mind and consider what they are doing – who they are, where they are – but none of those thoughts come to fruition, because instead of pushing away and going for her shotgun while Abby is distracted, she _whines_ at the loss of her. 

It should feel embarrassing. Humiliating even. But it doesn’t. Ellie is consumed by whatever it was that started this, so she doesn’t care that Abby is baring her teeth down at her before she kisses her again, and Ellie’s mind goes quiet as soon as she does. 

She knows, somewhere in her, that this is wrong, but as soon as her hands make contact with Abby’s skin again, it all falls apart. She wants to feel again. She gasps into her mouth. 

“Touch me.” She manages to speak through quick breaths, and Abby’s whole body shudders. 

She does as she’s told. She grabs the bottom of Ellie’s t-shirt, and pulls it over her head in one fluid motion, leaving them both in their bras, before leaning down and letting their bodies come into contact. Its like fire. Abby’s hands run up her sides, leaving goosebumps in her wake, while Ellie claws at her back to pull her closer still. She’s sure it hurts, but if it does, Abby doesn’t seem to feel it. 

There’s an urgency in this kiss. Ellie nips Abby’s lips, her hands exploring her until she reaches her bra clasp. She undoes it, reaching down and between them to toss it aside, before returning her attention to her chest. The concrete scratches her back, but Ellie doesn’t feel it, because Abby’s leg has slid between her own, and she grinds down like an instinct. 

The seams of her jeans rub up against her clit, a tantalising hint of pleasure, but its not enough. Ellie doesn’t even realise that she has bent her own leg up, to try and give back what she is receiving, until they begin to thrust together. Abby is panting against her lips, heady and wanting, and its more than instinct that leads Ellie’s hands down to her belt. 

She unbuckles and unbuttons, unseeing while she strains her neck up from the ground to deepen their kiss, but when her hand dips inside Abby’s pants and slides through slippery folds, Abby bears down on her, pushing Ellie back against the floor. One of her hands races down to brace herself as Ellie’s fingers reach for her, taking her apart piece by piece, until she can’t keep up their kiss any longer, and her head falls to rest by Ellie’s shoulder instead. 

Ellie uses her knee for leverage, pushing the heel of her hand against Abby’s clit while her fingers begin mapping her out. Abby is panting, pressing what could be considered kisses but were more just brushes of teeth and lips against Ellie’s skin, and her hips gyrate in search of more. 

She’s breathing so hard that Ellie can barely make words out of it, but she certainly feels the way Abby’s teeth scrape along her neck as she tries to make herself heard. Ellie knows what she wants, and dips her hand lower. Abby actually bites when she finally thrusts into her. Her teeth are sharp in her shoulder, and Ellie thinks it should hurt, but it doesn’t. 

“Fuck me!” Abby doesn’t sound like what Ellie is used to anymore. She’s desperate, almost breaking apart with her own want, and her voice reflects this. Its shaken and weak and powerful all at once, and it spurs Ellie on. She pushes up hard with her leg, fulfilling Abby’s demands to the best of her ability, until Abby’s form goes stiff and still, rocking with surges of pleasure and grinding down on Ellie’s hand, taking everything she can from it until she can’t take anymore, and slumps down against Ellie. 

There is a moment where neither of them move. Abby is still breathing hard against her shoulder, pressing hot, open kisses against whatever skin she can reach there, and while it does nothing but accentuate the heat in Ellie’s gut, she’s oddly peaceful in it. Abby is hot above her, and her body urges up closer to it, closing whatever tiny amount of space must be between them, until Abby catches her second wind, and catches her lips in a bruising kiss. 

There’s that white light again, the one Ellie can see even when she closes her eyes, the one that chases off any coherence that begins to piece itself together, and Ellie doesn’t care what might be going on outside of this anymore. She can barely remember herself; only the way Abby’s hands tear at her pants registers to her. She helps her pull them down her legs. 

She thinks she should feel colder. There is rainwater dripping down from Abby’s hair, mixing with sweat as it goes, but its _hot_. Almost boiling. Ellie groans when she kisses her again, teeth clicking against each other in their urgency, clawing down each others bodies in some kind of dance it seemed the two of them already knew. 

Eventually, Ellie is left with nothing, bare for Abby to see, and for a moment she wonders if there is something wrong; something her heart, brain, and pussy are all working together to distract her from, until Abby settles between her legs, parting them without resistance with oddly steady hands, and looking down at her with some semblance of clarity. Ellie clings to the fact that at least one of them has that quality. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing…” Abby murmurs. Ellie wonders if she’s going through exactly what she is; a horrible combination of lust and confusion that has ended them both here. She can’t dwell on it long though, because Abby doesn’t seem to need any verbal encouragement from her. She licks a long line up from her opening to her clit, and Ellie cries out, so loud it sounds like a gunshot to the still air around them. 

Faintly, she thinks she hears the sound echoed back at her, but she’s too far gone to tell. She can barely see anything in the fuzz of ecstasy, but through her narrow eyes she watches blonde hair dipping low between her legs, and it makes her shake. 

Its as if they have done this before, and considering Abby’s words, it doesn’t seem that she’s taking it slow. With the first taste of Ellie’s arousal on her tongue, she wraps her arms around Ellie’s legs to keep them apart, and takes her time to explore her. She licks through her folds, slow but not so slow as to cause discomfort, and once she has her bearings, dips her tongue inside her. 

Ellie howls. Her hands reach out to brace themselves, anywhere they can, and it only makes sense that Abby’s hair is as good an anchor as any. Her braid has begun to fall apart a little, stray hairs escaping it and frizzing a little, and Ellie’s fingers threaten to take it apart completely. It seems to urge Abby on though, if the groan Ellie feels bubbling up from her core means anything. She pulls harder. 

Abby fucks her with her mouth, until Ellie is sweating and shaking above her, and its like she _knows_. Like they have done this before. She flattens her tongue and runs it up, gathering the wetness there, until she reaches Ellie’s clit. Ellie is whimpering and whining, repeating her name like a spell. Abby feels like it has to be that, some kind of magic, because she’s never been so enthralled by the sound of her own name. 

She circles, until Ellie’s voice dwindles into a mess of syllables rather than words, before she wraps her lips around her clit and sucks. Ellie almost doesn’t react, her body jerking forwards and hanging in place. The muscles in her legs ripple under Abby’s hands, before they run taut, and she comes with a scream, her hands fisting Abby’s hair so tight it should have reefed it out of her scalp, but Abby lets her guide her deeper, closer, until she can’t breathe, and can only use her mouth to ease Ellie through it. 

She comes down quick, saving Abby from a slow death between her thighs, and her hands loosen up, freeing her. Where usually Ellie has decent stamina, this is different, so when Abby’s head follows her hand up, as of seeking more, she grabs her hair again, this time dragging her up to her lips with ferocity she doesn’t usually let run free. Abby bends to it. 

The kiss is breathless. Ellie tastes herself everywhere; she can feel it smeared down the length of her thighs, cooling without Abby’s attention, and down Abby’s chin, and on her lips, in her mouth and across her teeth. It creates a hunger deep in her belly, and she yearns to feed it. 

Ellie pins her leg around one of Abby’s, uses the advantage to flip them, and straddles her quick. She’s sure if she wanted too, Abby could twirl them around again easily, but she lets it happen. Her lips chase Ellie’s even as her eyes slip shut, even as hunger grows and twists in Ellie’s belly until it hurts. 

Her legs are jiggly and restless, and she finds pushing Abby back against the wall is easier than she expected. “Stand up.” She growls - _those words sound so familiar -_ through kisses that have started to feel more natural, more like they are working together than separate entities fighting for dominance. Abby isn’t quick, but she struggles upwards, with Ellie following her every step of the way. Her pants are still open and loose around her waist, and Ellie toys with the seams, where cloth meets skin, just to make her squirm. 

Abby is remarkably quiet, but Ellie hears whimpers of words in between her teeth, and chases after them. Her shoulder is aching – it feels like she may have even broken skin with that bite – but Ellie isn’t done. She breaks away, and begins her decent, nipping and licking down the expanse of Abby’s chest, running her hands slowly along the inside of her thighs. 

She listens to the sounds she makes, what brushing of her fingertips or swirls of her tongue cause a reaction, and revelling in the way Abby’s hand grabs uselessly to a table. She wants her to touch her, so she says as much, even if she doesn’t expect any response. She doesn’t even think Abby has access to her senses anymore. 

“Touch me.” She whispers, before giving all her attention to the body in front of her, parting her lips to place kisses along the lines of her muscles and scars, to lick quickly and rhythmically along one of her nipples, while her hand reaches up to toy with the other. Abby’s resulting jolt almost knocks her to the ground. 

She’s like a live wire against Ellie, writhing and thrashing. Ellie can feel her arousal dripping down her legs and onto Ellie’s own skin, hot and wet and more tempting than anything Ellie can stand against. “ _Touch me, Abby_.” She repeats, but this time Abby listens. Her hand comes up to fist Ellie’s hair, to keep her close, almost hard enough to hurt. She lets out a guttural moan that reverbs into Ellie from her chest. She echoes it back. 

Ellie doubles down on her efforts. Her hands drift back down to keep Abby’s legs apart, an effort in itself and difficult enough to distract her. Abby’s hold on her hair pulls, and she lets her drag her into a kiss, rough and consuming and delicious. Ellie doesn’t even realise she has begun to brush along Abby’s apex until she starts struggling to maintain their kiss, but once she does, she slips three fingers inside (already sure that Abby can take it) and sets a brutal pace. 

There is a certain reality to Abby’s position as a Wolf. Her teeth are sharp and her growls are fearsome, and Ellie thinks for a moment that she could transform before her very eyes, but instead her head falls back, vulnerable. Ellie doesn’t waste it, and licks a long line up to her pulse. Her teeth scratch the sensitive skin, unable to avoid the need to leave a mark, to bruise a reminder of herself into the woman she’s been hunting for what feels like forever. How could it be only a few weeks? 

Reality is knocking again at the base of her skull, but Abby’s hands pull her away, until she’s sinking, lower and lower down. The body she is manipulating shudders and shakes, the muscles strained as Ellie’s lips cannot get enough _touch_. She runs her tongue down her abs until blonde hair tickles the bottom of her chin. The angle of her hands is awkward, but she has not let up on Abby, and keeps her ever on edge as she goes. 

“Harder!” Abby gets the word out through gritted teeth, desperate but unable to take more without Ellie’s help. Ellie either doesn’t hear her, or doesn’t care too, and continues to fuck her slowly but steadily, continues her persistent and agonising attention to every inch of skin she passes. 

Abby grabs around beside her in an attempt to stay upright as Ellie’s assault continues lower and lower, until Ellie is kneeling in front of her, pulling her cargo pants down the rest of the way, until they pool around her ankles. Abby thinks she should feel strange. She’s not one for being naked in such a large room, so publically, but she doesn’t see anything past auburn hair and blood stained skin. 

Green eyes shine up at her for a second, before Ellie knocks her legs further apart with a kind of nonchalance that should be reserved for any situation other than _this_. She’s kissing her skin, hot and open mouthed up each of her thighs until she reaches the crevice of them, and it takes longer than it should for Abby to notice she is leaving bruises in her wake, dark and dangerous and lasting. She didn’t even feel her biting down, and she doesn’t feel it now.

Ellie knows what she’s doing, spreading her open with her hands and taking the time to visualise her, to pay attention to each crease and fold before she dives in. Its maddening, like being interrupted at the end of a good book or waiting for the go ahead to shoot, but Abby doesn’t fight her. She groans and hisses and sighs, but she doesn’t dissuade, so when Ellie finally leans in to taste her, she’s met with a guttural kind of wail that makes even Ellie’s legs shake. 

Ellie’s spare hand comes up to hold her by the hip, to keep her flush against the crumbling wall as she runs the flat of her tongue from Abby’s opening, dipping inside her to join her fingers for just a second, before running tantalisingly slow up to her clit. Abby is breathing so hard, Ellie doubts she’s actually getting any oxygen. She flicks the tip of her tongue, once, twice, and Abby clenches down hard. 

The room echoes back at them, and obscene sounds of wet arousal wafting through the room, but they don’t care to hear it. Ellie forces her eyes open to watch as Abby’s head falls back again. She wants to pull her hair. 

Abby is hard to keep still from Ellie’s position, and after a while she gives up on holding her down, letting her hips roll against her face as she wants. To let her take whatever pleasure she can, until finally her hips begin to shake and weaken, until they jerk to a stop. Ellie guides her from there, forcing her stiff arm to thrust harder into her, her tongue to work harder to wring her out. 

They hang like that for so long that Ellie begins to wonder if this is forever, that if Abby stops coming maybe the world will end. It doesn’t. When Abby does eventually slump down, almost falling to the floor before she’s saved by her hold on the table, she laughs, and it’s a strange kind of normalcy that neither of them are ready for. Still, she slips down slowly, eyes unseeing but (as soon as her ass hits the ground) she’s reaching out to Ellie, pulling in her and over her so they can push and pull at each other all over again. 

Her pants are tangling around her ankles, but Abby fights then, forcing herself up against Ellie, who relishes in it. Abby’s hands suddenly appear everywhere at once – drifting down her slides, across the swell of her breasts, down to her ass – making her giddy. She’s riding Abby’s thigh, sweaty and desperate and leaning down to kiss her without looking where she’s going. Abby meets her halfway, hands in her hair. Her leg flexes, her hands drop to Ellie’s waist, and she leads the desperate jittering of her hips to a steady pace, bringing Ellie closer to her peak, even better than she could herself. 

“Abby…” Ellie whines, breaking away to press kisses down her chest instead. Abby’s jaw feels so tight it hurts, and her nails dig into the flesh of Ellie’s ass, faster and faster until she _feels_ Ellie reach her peak. Wetness rushes across her skin, and she wants to taste all over again. Maybe this is forever, because Abby can’t imagine stopping, can’t imagine being anywhere but here, making this girl orgasm, and receiving the same from her. 

But it isn’t forever. 

They’re grinding against each other, some endless amount of time later, half sitting up and half laying on the ground, when an arrow wizzes past, and it’s the first thing Ellie has been aware of besides whatever is happening between them. For the first time since Abby passed through those red curtains, Ellie tears her eyes away from her, turns around from her place in her lap, and faces reality. 

“Ellie…” Dina is looking at her with an expression so pained that confusion blares through Ellie and into Abby. Its like a wake up call, and though Abby’s hands tighten for a moment on Ellie’s waist – almost enough to bring her right back into the void – the spell has been broken. Instead, when Ellie turns back to Abby, she sees the blood, the scratches and pain that runs across her skin and she tears herself away. “Ellie!”

Dina’s face flashes in her head behind closed eyes, her voice like a knife to the throat. Once she’s free of skin on skin contact reality comes rushing back in, and its horrifying. She wants to be sick, and as she takes a step back and feels the wetness between her legs, the old cum coating her body, she feels the panic come through. 

“Dina…” She whispers, because she needs her. She wants the comfort that Dina has always been able give her, with her kind eyes and her stupid jokes. She doesn’t think she’s going to get it. 

The boy is there too, but he averts his eyes respectfully. It seems he shot the arrow, but isn’t involving himself directly. A warning shot, a direct display that he is here, and that no harm will come to his friend. _His friend_. Ellie is terrified to look, but when she does, it seems Abby is looking back with the same shock and horror. Her hands are blindly searching for something, her shirt maybe, but she doesn’t seem to be able to look away from Ellie’s form, standing in the middle of all of them, red in her guilt. 

Dina is taking quick steps back, shaking her head, until she finally turns tail and runs, tripping over herself as she does. Ellie wants to chase after her, but she feels cemented to the floor, haunted and humiliated and still so desperate for _more_. 

Behind her, Abby has tugged her trousers back up her legs with shaking hands and an unsteady gait. Ellie wonders if she’ll choke her out, just wrap an arm around her neck while she can’t bring herself to look back, and take the life from her. Ellie doesn’t really know if she cares anymore, but Abby seems to make a distinct effort to avoid her, swinging her body around to give Ellie a wide berth. Scared to touch her again.

She finds her shirt on the ground, and in a strange display of kindness, throws Ellie’s clothes at her feet. Ellie still cannot bring herself to look, as she tugs her clothes into place, but Abby seems to choke there for a moment, like she wants to say something, before she gives up trying, and takes awkward steps away. 

It feels oddly painful, like a panic attack too close to the surface that has not broken through. Or like heartburn maybe. Ellie doesn’t have the will to compare it to something, because its agony, and she’s hates that she doesn’t understand. Abby doesn’t leave the way Dina did, and hovers around like a stray does a butcher shop, but Ellie doesn’t know what she wants. 

Faintly, Ellie can hear her conversing with the kid, telling him that everything is okay and that he did good, and looks over to catch her eye one final time. She looks as confused as Ellie feels, as uncomfortable and sick she is, and walks out the door backwards behind the boy, keeping her eyes on Ellie until she disappears into the darkness. 

Ellie slumps down to the ground, eyes open and unblinking as her panic overtakes her, until she can’t breath anymore and wants to gorge her eyes out rather than leave, rather than face Dina again. It can’t be real…

They were going back to Jackson. Dina needs to be back in Jackson. Joel is dead. Jesse is dead. Tommy is bleeding out in the atrium. 

_They are leaving._

Ellie doesn’t know how to feel. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote more of this. Dont ask me why. Its just more of this au, in an aimless direction, because I wanted too, and isnt that what life is all about

Abby walks until she can’t walk any more.

Lev is beside her, tugging at her wrist and asking so many questions, but Abby can barely hear him over the ringing in her ears. Her skin crawls with disgust and she has to stop to retch Ellie's taste into patches of greenery more than once, but eventually they stumble across a house that is far enough away from that theatre for Abby to breath cleanly again, and her knees finally fail her as soon as there’s a couch to fall back on.

She's breathless, and _sore_ , and even though Lev seems to have lost some of his energy when it comes to questioning her, his eyes bore into the back of her head as he explores the kitchen, sorting through the presses and drawers and piling up what he finds on the counter. Abby rests her head in her hands, before jerking away from them like they were caked in filth. Its all so fucked up…

Quietly, Lev sits in the armchair across from her, picking through a couple of dusty looking arrows. “Found these in the basement.” He says. Abby didn’t even notice him leaving the room.

That’s just it though; she feels so distant, like she’s half a mile away and looking down on herself, and it freaks her out. She hasn’t felt this out of it since... well since Salt Lake City. Lev ducks into her eye line, waking her a little, his face full of concern that Abby doesn’t feel very deserving off. She has to fight back another gag when another fresh memory from the aquarium resurfaces again, but she swallows it down in time for Lev to assume she’s crying again. “Abby-" He reaches out to her but she flinches away. Her skin feels raw and itchy, and Lev's face quickly twists from concern to pity. “Abby, it's gonna be okay.”

“What the fuck?” She doesn’t think its gonna be okay. Ever. Its raining so heavily, and she should be used to it after all these years in Seattle, but it feels much more suffocating tonight. Lev doesn’t mention how jumpy she is, and she’s endlessly grateful. She’s grateful for everything, but everything feels so wrong. Owen is _dead_.

Lev seems a little hesitant, but speaks anyway, as he distracts himself picking at some loose threads in the couch between them. “There are writings-" Abby scoffs, interrupting him and ignoring how bad she feels when he frowns at her. She powers on.

“No offense, but your Prophet doesn’t have the answers to everything.” Abby has to fight to keep her face calm and collected, not to lash out and throw things and ruin this day even more, but Lev shakes his head at her like one might chide a child.

“There's a lot more you don’t know about her than you do.” Lev quipped, and Abby has to hold her breath to stop herself from saying something stupid. His eyes are hard, and she knows she’s lost here, so she nods her acceptance and finally lets herself lean back against the couch. She rubs the heels of her hand into her eyes, trying to ignore the aches and pains and listen to Lev, even as her heart hammers away in her chest like its about to jump up her throat. She’s quickly developing a headache and wants nothing more than to sleep, or maybe run, but Lev settles down beside her on the couch and puts a reassuring hand on her forearm, gently asking her to relax.

“There are writings,” Lev says. “That speak about the Prophet's experience with a woman.” Abby's eyebrows jump up as she pulls her attention together and gives it over to him. “They aren’t particularly popular, things are rewritten, and lost, but my mom was alive to see it. She was always one for posterity.” He gets that look in his eyes again, the heartbroken one that reminds Abby of being seventeen and more alone than she had ever been before. It’s a few minutes before he continues but she can’t bring herself to rush him.

“She was a loner, someone passing through, but when the Prophet first touched her, she claims that was the moment the rest fell away.”

Abby doesn’t know why, but she finds herself thinking about those theatre curtains, how red they looked after the longest night she has had in years. Lev catches her eye, and looks at her like he has ever since they left the aquarium with no gear and only an idea of what they were starting. Abby isn’t even sure if she regrets it yet. “Her earlier writings were all trying to explain what it is like when the barrier between you and another falls so completely. Its like-” he struggles for a moment to articulate himself, “like your world changes, your connection to it and others changes.”

Abby stands very suddenly, feeling nauseous again, and struggles over to the sink, hovering above it and bracing out with her arms to stay upright. Lev is at her side immediately, a quietly soothing presence as much as she doesn’t want to hear another word from him. “Lev, I can't do this-"

“You've said that before and you were wrong then.” Abby shakes her head madly, a red flush running up her neck at the idea of what Lev is trying to convince her of. Stories the older generation told about something that was rare even then. Things left in the old world and lost in the new.

But _Ellie_?

“I need a minute.” She chokes, and Lev gives her a calculated look that she dodges as much as she can, before he takes a step back.

“I'll be upstairs if you need me.” He says. “You should try and sleep.”

Abby nods, even though she has no intentions of following through, and watches him walk up the stairs. His gait is exhausted, and she’s reminded suddenly of exactly how much she can’t be doing this. He lost his family today. It hasn’t even been 24 hours, but she’s already screwing this up.

Her skin feels hot, feverish, and even though she’s shivering and scared, she needs fresh air, so she stumbles outside in a blur. She doubles over to catch her breath after walking some time, like a dog trying to hide some fatal injury, and a part of her isn’t surprised to see her there. The girl from Jackson, only a few paces down the street and looking as haggard and tired as Abby feels, with her gun already focused on her.

“Don’t make a fucking sound.” She growls. Abby raises her hands automatically, palms up to show she’s unarmed, and tries to keep still as possible as Ellie approaches like a feral dog: slow and furious but still with some fear in her eyes. It doesn’t make sense that she would be afraid, but her gun shakes so much in her hands that it seems doubtful she could even use it, but Abby understands. She takes an instinctual step back when Ellie gets too close. It’s the wrong move.

Ellie’s eyes are dark and terrifying. “Don’t you dare!” She says, icy and shaken. Abby doesn’t risk taking another step, and watches as the distance is closed while she tries to keep panic at bay. Her body still hurts from their last encounter, the scrapes and bruises all flaring up as a response to her returned presence, and Abby fights back a whine when she gets close enough to see the state she had left her in is not much better. Ellie is bloodied, but its her eyes where the hurt shows the most. Abby can’t bear to look at her.

“You- you've taken _everything_ from me!” Ellie's gun wavers in her hands, and Abby feels the faint instinct from deep within her to try and defend herself, but she’s rooted to the spot and doesn’t move. Ellie yells so loud that spit froths from her lips. Abby watches as it flicks towards her before it dematerialises into the rain. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” Ellie surges forward, into Abby's space, way too close. The muzzle of the gun presses up into her chin but Abby doesn’t dare reach out to dislodge it. She remembers what happened the last time she touched her. 

Ellie stares into her eyes like she’s trying to find something there, while Abby fights to keep her hands by her sides, limp and useless and shivering as she tries to avoid looking back at her. She’s loathe to admit that she’s scared to, but she is. More than she’s scared of getting shot anyway. It’s a weak effort, and Ellie sees right through it. “Fucking _look_ at me!” She screams at her. Abby tries to unclench her jaw but it feels wired shut. She hopes Lev is far away, asleep and safe, because she’s fading fast. She doesn’t even remember which house she left him in.

“Look at me!” Ellie roars until Abby’s resolve fails her and she gives in. Her own lips are cut and bruised; she notices when they immediately form into a sneer to match Ellie's. She runs her tongue over them and tastes blood. Ellie drives the cold metal harder against her neck, grounding in its own way, so Abby clings to that as Ellie stares her down. She’s close enough that Abby can smell the alcohol on her breath. She strains to swallow around the barrel of the gun, and when Ellie pushes it deeper into her skin, her trigger finger grazes against Abby's neck. For a moment they both stare at each other, as if they had both suddenly become aware of a bomb counting down between them, until Ellie takes a fistful of her shirt, and moves first.

Its not really a surprise when Ellie kisses her, forcing her back against some dilapidated bus stop to run her hands up her body. The revolver falls to the ground between them, and mercifully doesn’t go off, but they've both forgotten about it. Abby isn’t even sure she isn’t bleeding out. Her nails dig into Ellie's scalp to try to keep her in place, pulling her face to the side and letting her tongue through her teeth before she has a chance to think about how she hasn’t swept the area yet.

There could be infected, Lev could have run into trouble, but she doesn’t struggle when Ellie's hands come up to take her wrists and drag them down to her sides, pinning her for a second before those thoughts melt away. Abby immediately goes for her waist, but before she can drag her closer – she wants her so badly it makes bile rise in the back of her throat - Ellie's forearm presses against her neck, pushing her back and holding her there. Abby's arms hang in the air for a moment, before going slack at her side.

She’s panting in Ellie's space, straining to keep still, like a deer in an open clearing suddenly aware they are not alone. She wants to shove her off and go for the gun, to empty as many rounds as she can into this girl's chest so she can watch her choke as she dies, but in the same moment wants to kiss her until she forgets everything else. Slowly (as she finds something in her eyes that Abby doesn’t fully understand yet) Ellie's arm unmistakable from her shirt and begins to descent until she’s at the waistband and playing with the button, sending Abby back to the theatre all over again.

“Who are you?” Ellie whispers, dragging her away from all the heat and sweat and sex and back to reality, but Abby doesn’t know what she wants to hear. She’s starting to think that Ellie knows her better than she does anyway. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” For the first time since Abby has known her she sounds vulnerable, more her age than the crazy woman who froths and screams and kill anyone unlucky enough to cross her. Abby is faintly aware that she is taking apart the clasp of her cargo pants, until her hand dips inside, inching through blonde hair so carefully that it feels choreographed. Her unsteady fingers brush the hood of her clit and Abby's breathing hitches.

She’s horrified to realise how wet she is, as her thighs automatically part to give Ellie room. Its uncomfortable, but it only lasts for a moment before Ellie’s cautious approach seems to meet its limit. Her fingers are cold, but she dips through Abby's heat without resistance. Abby can see the way her eyes flash as she does, the knowledge of how she is affecting her laid out plainly in front of them both. This doesn’t feel like the theatre (desperate and confusing and unstoppable), but Abby has no thoughts of escape. She does have thoughts though, even as she finds herself putting them aside.

This feels like something significant, like a moment she is meant to remember instead of simply living it.

Like Owen asking her to be his first kiss. Back when he looked at her.

Ellie slips a finger inside her, quick and easy, and a moan tears itself from Abby’s throat as she bucks up against her. Her head falls back as Ellie begins to move, quickly adding a second finger when it became aware how ready Abby was for her, growing less anxious as her legs fell open and her large hands brace themselves on Ellie's hips.

To distract herself from the way Abby’s grip tightens while she fucks her, Ellie takes advantage of the expanse of her neck, exposed as she mumbles and gasps into the rain. There’s already a large, purple stain peppering up around her pulse, so Ellie drags her tongue up to taste it, grateful to put her mind to rest and focus on something she knows. She’s been here before. Abby shakes around her hand.

“It was so easy to find you.” Ellie's breath lands hot against Abby's neck, sending a shiver through her. She clenches around Ellie's fingers. “Did you want me to find you?” Abby shakes her head even though the answer feels more distant each time Ellie's fingers sink into her. She wants her to pull her hair, to force her to arch her back and leave herself vulnerable, but she can’t voice it and Ellie doesn’t seem to care anyway. She rears back to look Abby in the eye for the first time since she kissed her, and Abby hasn't felt dirty until now, but seeing Ellie's shoulder work as she fucks her sends a thrill through her.

“Yeah,” Ellie says. “You wanted me to find you.” There’s an air of arrogance to her voice that isn’t particularly unwelcome. Abby struggles to keep eye contact as the heel of Ellie's hand brushes against her clit, whimpering and whining as Ellie doubles her pace, relentless and brutal to the point of cruelty if it wasn’t for the way she was _looking_ at her. She doesn’t know where to start when it comes to deciphering it, but Ellie has nice eyes; that much she takes away even as Ellie curls her fingers and sends her over the edge, shuddering against that damn bus stop.

Its still raining, and the frame is cold against her back, but Abby feels it like an old wound. Ellie swallows her gasps and the remainder of her pride when her hand slips out of her pants to cup her cheek, deepening the kiss when all Abby can do is grab desperately at anywhere she can and hope that no one is close enough to hear them. Ellie has the gall to bite her lip as she draws away in, pulling it between her teeth like she doesn’t even care that Abby is chasing after her. Her spare arm across Abby's chest feels stronger than it should, and her nails dig into the side of her face to stop her.

She’s speaking, but Abby is only focused on her mouth. It feels like a million years ago that Ellie was on her knees for her, but in that moment Abby can practically feel it all over again, her tongue spreading her open and leaving her bruised as she did. Her hips jolt out, still jittery and a little too rough, and while Ellie holds firm against her, her hand slips back down into her pants.

She starts rubbing Abby though her underwear, seemingly unaware that she’s even doing it until Abby whimpers and ducks her head. Ellie deftly moves the fabric aside and Abby's breathing hitches and skips as she circles her. “You're greedy.” She says, with the gall to be cocky. Abby wants to turn them around and wipe that stupid look off her face, but something besides the way Ellie touches her - looks at her - keeps her still.

She thinks of what Lev said, of what this might be, and she doesn’t know what Ellie thinks is going on, but her instincts are roaring at her, so she listens. Ellie almost laughs in her face. “Did you hear a word I just said?”

“No.” Abby admits, hating the way she sounds even as Ellie feels exactly the opposite. She swears she can tell – maybe in the way Ellie's hand glides around from her chest to the back of her head, grabbing hold of the base of her braid, tight enough to ache – but Ellie's face shows no change. Abby wants to wrestle her to the ground, or slam her head against the metal bench so hard it comes apart under her hands, or maybe she wants to run away until she’s certain she can’t be followed. She arches her back, straining away from Ellie's hold on her, and looks down at Ellie with hooded eyes.

Letting Ellie size her up like this feels dangerous, but Abby can’t bring herself to care. Ellie's fingers dig deep into her hair, pulling at the roots as she uses the better angle to her advantage. Abby groans before she can check herself, and a grin stretches awkwardly across Ellie's face, like it didn’t quite fit her but she’s wearing it anyway. Her thrusts are fast and almost uncontrolled, uneven and desperate. Abby cums with another violent tug on her hair, crying out when Ellie leans down with all her weight to keep her in place.

“You really have a thing for that.” Ellie whispers in her ear, kissing a line up her neck until she dives back to kiss her. Abby is suddenly so aware of her own arousal, the smell of it in the air, and how much she wants to touch skin. She slips her hands under Ellie's shirt, sliding around to her back and spreading herself wide, as if to take in as much of her as she can. Ellie groans a little against her, her chest heaving against Abby's as she restlessly dances around the edges of her clothes, tearing at fabric but scared to do much more.

Abby finds her voice and whimpers pathetically when she has to tear herself away for breathing space. “What are you doing to me?” She watches the question hit Ellie with like a wave, sending her reeling back. She catches herself on Abby's shirt, still held tight in her fist. Abby reaches out for her, and Ellie bends to it easily, letting herself be drawn back in despite her wide eyes filling with panic.

Somehow, this kiss is softer than usual, despite their unbroken stares back and forth. Their teeth click against each other, and Ellie shivers as Abby's hands twist back under her shirt to touch her skin, as lightly as she can. Ellie can feel her holding back, her arms shaking with the effort of it, as if they were locked in combat. At least she would know what to do with that.

“Its okay,” she says, because she doesn’t know what else to say to make her stop shaking. Abby starts up to look at her, and she looks _scared_. It’s a strange look on her. “I never know what’s going on.” She sounds like she’s trying to land it as a joke, but she chokes halfway through, and Abby lets her instincts take over.

Ellie doesn’t say anything when Abby's hand disappears down between her legs. She just looks at her with those eyes, her hands wandering Abby's body – up her chest, around her neck, into her hair – as she arches into her, taking her as deep as she can. Ellie had felt the absence far too much to ever admit. She hisses in Abby's face and Abby picks up her pace. She’s breathing hard, a sheen of sweat building up across her brow, and Ellie can’t stop looking at the way her jaw works as she moves, how it matches each drive of her fingers like a dance.

At the same time, Abby feels entranced. She’s lost in green and the sounds Ellie makes (soft sighs and moans that stir something in her that doesn’t know fatigue or hunger or pain), so if it weren’t for those very things she may not have even noticed Ellie cumming around her fingers. But Ellie's eyes slip shut as it hits her, and she makes a guttural sound trying to keep quiet. Abby wishes she wouldn’t. Determined to drive more from her, she catches her in an off kilter kiss, distracting her as her spare hand slides down to her ass.

Abby begins to guide Ellie’s body down onto her own fingers, steady and slow as she works her way past her peak and bottoms out. She finally breaks eye contact to press her forehead into Abby's collar, whispering curses into the crook of her neck, calling her names even as she begs for her to keep going. “Abby,” she whines, “Abby, faster.” She's clearly serious, gravelly and wanting, and she gets what she wants.

Ellie writhes under the attention, barely able to catch her breath enough to urge Abby on, but choked words escape anyway, and Abby drinks them up greedily. “Yeah- fuck!” She groans into her shoulder, the same shoulder she sank her teeth into only hours ago. That fact is not lost on her. Instead of dwelling on the possibility of opening it back up, she pries Abby's soaked shirt from her skin to touch.

Ellie cries out when her nails scratch down Abby's stomach and somehow burn down her own too. She's close, rocked by Abby's thrusts and loose in her arms, but she forces herself back with the last bit of strength in her arms so she can look at her; the woman she tracked halfway across the country with nothing but a memory to go on. Ellie bites down on her own lip when she cums, enough to draw blood, but neither of them notice.

Abby wants to taste her again, and even though Ellie is kissing her, lighting her on fire from the inside, she breaks away to follow her instincts, and to lick her own fingers clean. Ellie watches, fascinated but more akin to the way someone might watch a pack of lions take down their prey. Professional curiosity; bolstered by the knowledge that you may never get the chance to see something with your own eyes again. She groans, and as much as Abby is enjoying the reaction she has gotten for something she felt she didn’t have a choice in, she can’t keep herself still.

She grabs Ellie by the shoulders to flip their positions. Ellie growls viciously but doesn’t fight back, especially as Abby shakily sinks down. Her legs are weak but she barely feels the gravel biting at her knees, all awareness focused on Ellie's hand crawling around the back of her neck, and her unbroken gaze down at her when she risks looking up. Abby automatically begins to tug her jeans down her thighs, and when the stiff, cold air hits against bare, wet skin, both of them shudder.

Ellie's grip gets tighter as Abby's lips graze along her hips, down to her thighs. Her hair is wet, soaked through and dark now, and Ellie’s attention to her roots should hurt more than it does, but she’s leading her where Abby is already going. Her breath is hot and quick, but nothing compared to the heat of her open mouth. Her tongue extends out to spread Ellie's lips, and Abby moans along with her this time. Ellie's legs feel light and spread easily, offering no resistance when Abby's hands come up to hold them open, her eyes slipping shut as she retreads familiar ground.

She’s never been so engaged in preforming for a partner before, and its only when her tongue curls around Ellie's clit that she notices her own hips jutting forward against nothing. She groans and pushes closer to Ellie, her knees dragging in the cracks so she can lavish as much attention as she can to Ellie's pussy, listening eagerly for her approval. Her own arousal coats the inside of her thighs, a clear response to whatever is going on between them that she isn’t willing to understand, but Abby doesn’t fight it anymore, and takes everything Ellie gives her down her throat.

Ellie watches her head bob up and down between her legs until the pleasure becomes too much. She screams and writhers and doesn’t care about the world around them; only how Abby doesn’t miss a beat in taking as much of her as she can into her mouth. Ellie doesn’t think she’s taken a breath since she locked down around her, but Abby isn’t hindered by what she’s missing out on. She transfers her attention away from Ellie's clit, parting her lips carefully as if she’s worried she might be missing out by leaving anywhere untouched.

Ellie yanks hard on Abby’s hair to get her attention. Once again she’s struck by the sight of her, how her whole body moves as she flicks her tongue, so when her eyes fly open at Ellie's insistence its enough to send her over the edge. Abby moans, sensing the change in her by the strength of her grip, and it ripples up Ellie's nerves and out of her mouth in an echo; far too loud but neither of them care about that anymore.

Ellie rears up against her face, but she never closes her eyes even as her vision blurs out. Abby does her best to accommodate her, but as she is forced back (almost to her haunches) the friction alone is enough to get her off. Her nails dig into Ellie's legs, sending pinpricks up her own that remind her once again of murals and legends and how good it felt to touch without restriction, grinding on each other on that grimy floor. Ellie tries to guide her up by the hair, but Abby fights back to enjoy the sensation of it to the full extent Ellie will give it to her, turning her head to press her lips to anywhere she can reach.

“Abby…” Ellie warns, and she knows Abby is smiling by the nip of her teeth as she travels up from her pubic mound to the jut of her hips. Her hands wind around her waist to hold her steady, and Ellie stares down at her in an odd moment of intimacy, fuzzily aware of her fallen revolver - Joel's revolver - lying only a few feet away. Abby pushes up her shirt while she ventures up towards her stomach, on her knees but at her full height - just below Ellie's breasts as she dazedly lavishes attention to newly uncovered skin.

Eventually, Ellie's determination to watch fails her, and she sinks down to Abby’s level to kiss her. Abby's eyes slip shut immediately, and while the little voice in the back of Ellie's head screams at her to go for the gun (it’s _right there_ , she wouldn’t even notice in time to stop her), she’s helpless to the way her body reacts. Her hands slip around the back of Abby's head, pulling her to the side to deepen the kiss. She’s being so malleable that the part of Ellie's mind that has rotted away to paranoia is startled, but she’s not one to deny herself.

The only things she hears are Abby's muffled gasps, but no fate or fiction could have distracted either of them from the explosion. Its nowhere nearby (in fact, the plume of smoke seems a good distance away), but they spring apart at the distraction; the world shaking around them. Ellie immediately spots the source but is distracted by the way Abby spins in her arms, leaning down on her as she searches for the danger. Her hackles are up and the stress rolls off of her; Ellie might have thought it was funny if they were anyone else in any other position.

“We should move.” Abby says, sounding raw and real and Ellie is landed to feel the way her chest rapidly rises and falls. She’s staring at the distant dusty sky with sad eyes, so distracting that Ellie still doesn’t go for her gun. Instead she squats in the road and rights her clothes as much as she can while Abby's back is turned. As if it matters anyway.

“Where?” She asks. There’s a lot of questions she should be asking (does Abby know what’s going on? If so could she _explain_?), but Abby just turns to her and they all die on her lips. She’s drawn to her dishevelled clothes, and once again to the bruises and kiss swollen lips that remind her that this is really happening. She wants to touch her.

Abby reaches down to her, taking her hand to bring her up on unsteady legs. “I have a place.” She doesn’t sound very sure, and she isn’t. She doesn’t know of this is the right move, but they shouldn’t be out in the open. That noise seemed to have come from the stadium, meaning any remaining WLF would be fleeing with whatever they could grab. She takes a moment to mourn all the photos that have probably already gone up in flames by now, but Ellie is jittery beside her, visibly disturbed and confused, and she knows she’s needed now. Here.

Lev is still asleep by the time she gets Ellie back to base. She doesn’t know how long its been, but sunlight is beginning to break through the kitchen curtains by the time the door is safely shut behind them. Ellie doesn’t say a word the whole time, just follows behind with glossy eyes and a stupid, slack jawed expression that might have been annoying, if she didn’t look so stricken. Abby sits on the couch for something to do as Ellie seemingly tries to blend into her new surroundings, wringing her hands together and trying to decide what she could possibly say to break the tension.

She doesn’t know what to do. She left the theatre much like she arrived in Seattle (with a clear goal and no idea of how to get there), but she’s gotten lost all over again. They left her here.

That’s not true. She left them.

“Your people…” Abby trails off, but the question hangs in the air. Ellie shrugs.

“Probably already halfway out of Seattle by now.” She doesn’t really believe that, but there’s a relief in saying it, even if it is a lie. Ellie doesn’t know where it comes from, but its immensely comforting. Abby's shoulders slump. Ellie flinches away from her. She’s not quite regretting storming out of the theatre, Dina's heated words hot on her heels, but its beginning to set in that (once again) she couldn’t do it. She failed. Abby is sitting only a few steps away and she won’t do it. She’s so tired.

Ellie slides down the wall and rests her elbows down on her knees. She's still tingling all over, over simulated nerves irritated by wet jeans, but too panicked to rest. She has to force herself just to blink, when her eyes burn too hot into Abby's back. She isn’t going to do it.

“What the _fuck_ have you done to me?” Ellie spits, when Abby doesn’t even look at her and time stretches on a little too thickly. She watches her breathe and straighten her back, obsessing over the way the veins and muscles in her neck pull taut under her skin as she does, until Abby turns heavy eyes on her. She looks younger.

Ellie has always been too afraid of people, of what they could do to her, to act like she has in the last 24 hours. She’s afraid now, that she’s made yet another fatal mistake, even though she doesn’t know how culpable she really is. How could she have ended up here?

“Answer me…” Ellie asks, only a faction away from begging. “Please.”

Abby shrugs. “I'm not sure.”

“Then start being sure. I can’t go through that again.” Ellie lets herself close her eyes for just a second – so tired – and regrets it immediately when Abby scoffs. It’s a vile and aggressive sound that makes her skin crawl.

“You seemed pretty into it outside.” She’s biting, tone dripping with sarcasm and impossible to deal with when Ellie isn’t sure what is keeping her together anymore.

“You wanna go back out then?” Ellie steps up to the plate, but it comes out more suggestive than threatening. Abby's eyes sink back down to the floor.

“You kissed me. None of this is my fault.”

“Then whose fault is it?” Abby trips then, tries to speak and fails, and Ellie catches her. “I know you know something.” _I'm not the kind of person who does this_. “No fucking tricks this time.” Ellie slowly moves to sit in the old corner armchair, curling in on herself like a cat. “And don’t fucking touch me.”

Abby mirrors her in her own way, pulling her whole body up and onto the couch to rest it all against the cushions and finally face her. Her jaw is starting to hurt, and she has a lot of talking ahead of her, but its almost morning.

Hopefully Lev will finish it for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me a comment if you enjoyed! Or dont. But it is a pandemic so lets be kind

**Author's Note:**

> Anyway leave a comment because i really love hearing from you guys! Also because i just really like validation
> 
> If you wanna see more of me and hear my awful thoughts im on tumblr at abbysratking
> 
> For now stay safe everyone! Thanks for reading


End file.
